Infliction
by JNSBuffy
Summary: When Strangers Appear: This is the way the bathroom scene might have turned out if I, or one of the other lusty Josh Lucas fans, had directed it lol. Reviews and constructive critcism are very much appreciated! M for some violene and mild sexual content.


**I wrote this about three years ago when I was going through a major crush on Josh Lucas that is now long over, but I still like this one and until I get to writing new stories, I thought I'd just put this one up. I am not a native speaker, so bear with me. If anyone is actually reading this, please do review.**

Beth was literally on the verge of breaking down. She felt that she couldn't keep running away for much longer, even though her life depended on it. But now she had nowhere to run anyway, she was trapped, with only the thin door of the toilet stall between her and the man she was sure would end her life. Perched on top of the seat, hugging her arms around herself and trying to breathe as quietly as possible, she could do nothing but hope that Peter would see the open window and believe that she had escaped that way. She could now see his shadow through the gap between the floor and the door. She could hear his even breathing. With disgust, she realized that her heart was not only beating out of utter terror, but that the quick thump thump also came from a deep, dark desire, desire for this man, this monster.

She knew that he had only been nice to her to gain her trust, to convince her that he was the good guy who wanted to protect her from harm when really he was the killer. Jack, Bryce, Eric – all of them were dead on his acccount, and she had trusted him blindly. But when he had gently pushed a few strands of hair from her face at the diner, telling her she would get through this, had there not been a flicker of sincerity, a speck of painful regret in his unnaturally blue eyes?

Beth tried to push the sympathy and affection for him away. The man who nearly made her fall love with him, who swore to help her, that hadn't been his real self. His real self was on the other side of the door, ready to kill her as he had killed the others and possibly many more.

Suddenly, she heard the door to the restrooms open, a sliver of light appearing on the floor. Hope surged through her but quickly dissipated when she saw that his shadow wasn't moving and the door closed again. He was trying to trick her like she had tried to trick him. He had probably known the moment he had come in where she was, delighting in postponing the moment when he would kill her.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, within the blink of an eye, the door flew open towards her with great momentum. Beth drew back, supporting herself with her hands on the walls. Peter stood before her, and they both stared into each other's eyes for a moment, like a predator and his prey. In a last, futile attempt to escape, Beth charged forward, but Peter immediately grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her against the side wall of the stall. His face mere inches from hers, he looked her in the eyes, spite and anger setting them aflame.

"Where is it?" he spat in his low, vibrating voice. Beth tried to ignore the way it seemed to resonate within her, igniting a spark in the darkest, most primitive part of her being. She hardened her stare, putting as much hate into it as she could muster. A switchblade he had in his left hand was held against the side of her face. One flick of his wrist and it would be over. With the heel of his hand against her throat and his arm against her shoulder, he pinned her harder against the wall.

His right hand travelled from her shoulder over the top of the soft flesh of her left breast, down the middle of her chest and back around to roughly grab at the breast he had already brushed, searching for the disc. She inwardly scolded herself when her nipple hardened at his ungentle and invasive touch. As his hand slid across her belly and under the hem of her jeans, Beth held her breath. She found herself wanting him to touch her and wasn't able to suppress the arousal that was spreading through her body from between her legs.

All the while, Peter had kept his gaze locked with hers, and the slightest triumphant grin showed in the corners of his mouth when he withdrew his hand from her pants, holding up the black CD case.

"You wanna know what's on it?" he asked, his lips almost touching hers. "Not much." he added, slipping the case into the inside pocket of his jacket. He switched the knife from his right hand to his left beneath her chin and pushed the fingers of his right hand into the soft skin of her throat. He lowered his left hand, pointed the knife forward at her stomach and drew his arm back to gain momentum.

Beth braced herself for the pain. She didn't know if he would slit her open so her guts would spill on the dirty floor of the toilet, her life leaving her slowly and painfully, or if he would just stab her like he had stabbed Jack, giving her a realistic chance of survival. Right now, she didn't know which of the two she would prefer.

And still, his mouth was only an inch away from hers and their eyes were still locked. But Beth hadn't expected to see what she saw in those deep pools of azure now: the same trace of regret he had shown once before. He let his arm hang limply at his side, the knife almost slipping from his grip. The hold he had on her neck loosened slightly, but Beth was suddenly paralyzed and didn't attempt to break free.

Then it happened, in a fragment of a second: Peter crushed his lips against hers, pushing Beth harder against the wall with his entire body. His tongue invaded her mouth, and she found it impossible to fight him. Their tongues danced back and forth, the kiss becoming more and more intense, and more desperate. Both of them knew that it would be their first, last and only kiss, and they wanted to make it last. Beth felt that it wouldn't be enough. Her body screamed for more, and every fibre of her being wanted him inside her, wanted him to fuck her, right here, against the bathroom wall. All reason, all fear had left her the instant his lips had touched hers.

Very suddenly, Peter broke the kiss and looked down, out of breath. When he looked up again to meet her eyes, she saw yet another emotion: sadness. And she felt it, too. A tear ran down the side of her face. They looked at each other for a very long moment, their lips still close enough to feel each other's breaths until he whispered, almost inaudibly: "I'm sorry." With that, the coldness returned to his stare. Swiftly, he swung back his arm and Beth gasped in pain as the cool blade pierced through her skin and sliced her insides.

Beth clung to him, her eyes shut, her mouth wide open in a silent scream, while the knife was still embedded in her belly. She tried to breathe through the pain, but her breathing remained ragged, the pain too intense.

There was no apology, no regret in his voice when he spoke again. "You get to a phone fast and you won't die – but don't follow us. Understood?" On the last word, his lips almost brushed hers again, a reminder of the kiss that was now a mere memory, nearly obliterated by unbearable pain.

Beth kept her eyes closed and brought herself to nod in agreement. Peter withdrew the knife from her body, a fresh wave of pain coursing through her. Weakly, she fell against him, trying to keep on her feet by clinging to him. But the next moment, he was gone, and Beth doubled over in agony.

She allowed herself a brief moment to recover from what had happened in the last few minutes. Although the physical pain was excruciating, she knew in her heart that Peter had inflicted a much deeper wound upon her soul. Silently, she cried a few hot tears. Far away, she heard a car driving off with sqealing tires.

She braced herself and rose to her feet. She knew that they would be back soon when they found out she had swapped the disc for an audio CD. If she didn't escape before their return, she would have to face Peter again. And she knew that only one of them would live through it.

She wiped the last tear from her eyes and began to climb out of the bathroom window.

THE END


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